Mein Father, Mein Brother
by LoliTurk
Summary: A look into the rise and fall of the Third Reich from the eyes of those who lived within it. Ludwig must choose between Father and Brother,truth and lies, and all the rainy shades of gray in between. GermanyxPrussia Final Chapter Up!
1. Chapter 1

Fine china teacups clicked loudly in the great hall, luxurious red flags did nothing to silence the deafening echo. Ludwig took the drink his new Boss offered, and he honestly couldn't tell if it was tea or coffee that burned his mouth. Germany wished it was alcohol instead.

The dark haired man across from him spoke first "They told me what you are, and I could not believe it but…" The man smiled as bright and warm as a sunrise, his words full of a hope and happiness that had long disappeared after the Great War. "…Seeing you here…Up close, is quite amazing really."

Ludwig let go of the breath he didn't know he had been holding in, maybe this wasn't going to be as awkward a ceremony as he feared.

"When they told me, I was like a little child… wondering and guessing what you would be like, and you are more beautiful than I could have ever dreamed."

The blonde nation stiffened in astonishment at his words.

_Beautiful?_

Maybe once when Germany was younger, but _now_?

Ludwig's fingers pawed at the fraying sleeve of his already faded uniform. He tried so hard to stay presentable to the other nations but, in truth he was suffering. He felt himself grow thinner the longer his people went hungry. Stacks of German Marks are used as children's blocks and to paper walls as they were useless for anything else. No money for food, no money for heat, no money for a sleeve-button.

Ludwig gnashed his teeth at the very idea of it. Every drop of blood in his body went to pay war reparations. "More money! More Money! More restrictions!" The greedy nations cried, and had the nerve to treat his people like criminals. All because of that ridiculous treaty!

The edge of the varnished table he was gripping splintered in his fury. Realizing his mistake he quickly apologized to the dark haired man. Ludwig had expected anger or fear from the chancellor and was surprised when he heard pleased laughter.

"You see?" The man said with excitement "This is what I am talking about, you are neither weak nor dead. You are Germany, the greatest nation in the world!" The dark haired man went to the window and threw back the curtains revealing a capital grayed with rain. "I have not lost hope in this country, and I will not allow you to lose hope either! I will rebuild this country brick by brick, alone if I must, but I will see Germany rise again as strong as -no, _greater_- than before!" Seemingly out of breath he ended speech with a huff. His heroic enthusiasm made the blonde nation smile with pride.

Hours of laughing and discussing plans of a brighter tomorrow flew by when the two men parted ways. A ride home was offered and Ludwig politely declined but a hand on his shoulder stopped him before he could leave. "I will do everything in my power to help you no matter what, this is my promise." Germany answered by saluting with his right arm straight to the man he quickly grew to respect like a father "_Heil mein Führer_, Adolf Hitler!"


	2. Chapter 2

Ludwig left feeling more cheerful than he had in what felt like centuries. He popped open a dark blue umbrella to shield himself from the downpour. The umbrella wasn't new, but it was the best his brother could afford, and it seemed like an insult not to use it. "I will not have my dear little bruder getting himself sick because he doesn't have an umbrella." The elder German declared almost two weeks earlier, and thrust the object into his younger brother's arms. Gilbert passed the gesture off as nothing of importance, but Germany noticed that something would always go missing from Prussia's home a few days before Ludwig received a gift.

A few pieces of silverware or a treasured fragment of a bygone war would be sold in secret to cushion the younger brother's poverty, despite Gilbert's own dying economy. Both of them knew, but neither breathed a word of it out of understanding. To refuse Prussia's help would be to call him a failure as a brother and for blatantly offering help to Ludwig would be to call him a failure as a nation. And so, with the mock seriousness of children, their game of 'I Don't Need It/You Can Have It' continued.

The blonde nation promised himself that one day he would get back everything that his older brother sacrificed for him, and he could now feel that day was rapidly approaching.

When Ludwig reached his modest home in western Berlin, he was put on guard by the absence of the usual noise. Gone were the dogs that frequently patrolled the yard and he walked to the door expecting a furry welcome, but received none.

His fears were eased when he saw inside, his brother on the couch with the animals lying at his feet. "Welcome back West, how was coffee with the Chancellor of greater Germany? Is he the same in person?" Gilbert grinned and tried to get up unsuccessfully. The largest dog, Bromme, pinned the white haired nation to the couch under his massive girth. Unsympathetic to his brother's distress, Ludwig teased the elder German and pulled the animal off, taking its place on the couch.

"The _Furher_ was much kinder than I expected, and he has great plans for rebuilding this country." Ludwig began to explain the concept of _Lebensraum_ in great detail. The elder brother had heard bits of the man's speeches on the radio but, altogether Gilbert avoided human politics. The elder looked skeptical, politicians would promise anything to get elected and then conveniently forget all when they reached office. But in the end, Gilbert was happy if his brother was and he hoped some good would come out of the situation. Then he remembered something of great importance to ask his younger brother.

"Did you ask him about the moustache?" Prussia asked eagerly.

The blonde's hopes of a serious conversation died immediately and he frowned, drawing creases that made the elder laugh.

"Of course not!" Ludwig was indignant, how could he ask such stupid things? Gilbert grinned mischievously. His brother was so much fun when his feathers were ruffled

"C'mon West! I want to know why he has that ridiculous _thing _under his nose!"

Fully taking the bait, the blonde scrambled to defend his Boss "It was not ridiculous! I'm sure it is a perfectly fashionable way to style one's facial hair."

"Name one person besides him who has that 'fashionable style' as you call it."

Ludwig folded his arms and thought deeply for a time. "That American film actor you like, Charlie something."

"Charlie Chaplain's a comedian for Christ's sake!" Gilbert clutched his sides in mirth, but his reason changed when he felt a pain shooting up his ribs.

He refused to show his agony but his eyes betrayed his pride. Ludwig's frustration was traded for concern as gloved fingers lightly touched the bruised area "How bad is it?" he asked. Gilbert hissed at the contact and kept any hint of discomfort out of his voice "This depression's killing me, I swear I gonna wring France's neck the next time I see him!"

The blonde watched his brother force a laugh and saw it get cut short again, this time, the German nearly doubled over. Ludwig knitted his brows together, something had to be done he didn't know how long they could live like this.

"Gilbert, next time I see the _Furher _I want you to meet him. I know he can help with your suffering, too."

The next day Ludwig couldn't help himself, he was drawn to the Berlin Square Theater like a moth to a flame. The surrounding buildings were rouged with the red of Nazi flags. People cheered and blissfully sang the songs like they knew them their whole lives. The blonde embraced the heady feeling that wrapped around his senses like a soft blanket. It tasted sweet on his tongue and was absorbed into his blood like alcohol, and Ludwig wished his brother was here to share his pleasure.

The man from yesterday took to the stage like God descending from heaven to speak to Moses. His words shook the air around him and ignited a fire within the heart of the crowd giving birth to an uproar. The chancellor urged them to tear off the suffocating binds that held them down and to seek retribution against the demons that stole their hearts, their pride.

…_We are neither weak nor dead…Our war machine will move again, rusted gears will return to life and roar like thunder …Our machine will be heard across the world… powerful and devastating, it will crush everything in our path…They will shed blood for our tears…_

_They will die!_


	3. Chapter 3

With the _Furher_ in power, factories across Germany reopened with a renewed sense of purpose as they prepared with the brewing war with Poland.

Gilbert had managed to find decent work in one of the factories and between his riveter's pay and his brother's military stipend, they made a sound living.

His shift just ended minutes ago and it was still hours before the dawn, leaving the German tired and aching after a hard day's work. Gilbert shuffled into an open store, eager to get done with his errand and curl up next to his sleeping brother.

The shopkeeper had added a strange bottle to Gilbert's bunch of perishables and when the pale nation inquired about it, the man claimed it was a gift of goodwill for years of service. "There are some people talking about your condition around town, worried that you're less than Aryan."The burly man smiled at him "A little yellow dye will work wonders but, at least you're not a Jude, right?"

Words could not accurately describe the nation's mixture of astonishment and offense at this man.

Thus in lieu of words, the albino whipped the bottle back at him with such force that the man dove behind the counter, fearing that he would lose his head. When the shopkeeper rose the courage to look up he found Gilbert and the items gone with exact change left on the counter.

Gilbert bit back his urge to scream upon returning to his brother's home as to not wake him, but was surprised to see that the lights were on.

The inside revealed Ludwig wide awake, pacing back and forth with a look of worry on his face. His blue eyes turned to his brother and silently sought comfort that Gilbert could not deny.

The parcels were set down and forgotten without a word as the younger brother surrendered. He felt Ludwig's hands shake as they roamed over the brother's white skin, undoing buttons in their wake.

…A fistful of blonde hair, a kiss, a taste…

_A scream in the dark._

Ludwig hesitated to take his brother's lips, "Do I disgust you, West?" Ruby eyes locked blue and the blonde shook his head and spoke "No, you are my Master Race."

_The soldiers came and destroyed everything, took everything._

His other half laughed darkly "I am master of nothing and neither are you."

_Why would no one help us?_

Ludwig didn't understand and let the smaller man take control to straddle his hips on the bed.

_They set fire to our homes and synagogues, my parents are gone…_

In less than an instant, November coldness was replaced with a tight heat and Germany covered his face to keep from screaming in pain.

…_Gone to work in the factories that no one returns from. There is always acrid smoke billowing out, but nothing is ever built._

Short nails and teeth drew blood from the Aryan's body, and they learned all blood tastes the same.

"Your brother asked me to help you and yet, your parliament has repeatedly shot down most of my legislations. You must speak to them about this." The _Furher_ spoke with formal concern, it was merely a command disguised as kindness.

Gilbert sipped his coffee, doing nothing to hide his distaste of both the drink and the topic. "I have spoken with them and _that's_ why your laws won't pass."

Oblivious or uncaring to the offended Chancellor, the pale nation took another sip of the drink and scrunched his face. "We must send this to Poland…" He considered "…the war would be over before lunch."

Who on Earth was this ill-mannered little man? Surely, this could not be the older brother that Herr Ludwig spoke of…This must be some bizarre Jewish trick, the man reasoned. Gilbert was slickly white

Crinkled papers were pulled out of a blue uniform pocket and smoothed on the mahogany tabletop with pale hands. "Take the Nuremburg Laws for example, 'Judes will not posses property, own land, marry Aryans' blah, blah."

Gilbert licked his pink lips, missing the can of beer Ludwig confiscated before the meeting. Then again, the coffee was proving to be entertaining.

"What is wrong with my laws?" The dark-haired man asked angrily, pulling the nation out of his inner monologue.

"Hmm…" He took a swig of the bitter drink before continuing "…If we get rid of the Jews, who will count our money for us?" He reasoned slowly as if talking to a dimwitted child.

This was the last straw. The enraged _Furher_ jumped to his feet and the nation watched with a calm indifference. "Who do you think you're speaking to, boy!?"

"I should ask you that actually. I am over six-hundred years old; I have seen the rise and fall of many an empire, and I assure you that your pseudo-sciences and silly heroic fantasies are utter trash. Thank you for the shitty coffee, have a nice day." Prussia finished his drink and walked out the door only to be stopped in the hall by two SA members.

"Goons already Adolf? I though that we were-" The taunt cut short by a blow to the jaw, one man the Gilbert in place as the other delivered blow after blow to his face and chest.

"I see you did not visit your capital recently, I'm afraid you missed the _Preußenschlag_." The _Furher_ stood in the doorway framed by his false grandeur and he continued bragging like a child who won against their parents "Your parliament has been formally dissolved as of this morning, I was going to spare you your autonomy, but you are neither Aryan nor obedient. The state of Prussia belongs to the Third Reich."

When Gilbert was adequately beaten, the SA member let go, allowing him to crumple at the _Furher_'s feet.

"What a disgusting creature." The man scoffed.

The nation spat blood on the chancellor's jackboots and sneered "I don't belong to you or your Nazi bullshit. When I walk onto the battlefield… " The strong country pulled himself up like he had done so many times before. "…I fight for defend my country and my brother, not you."

The ceremony ended and the blonde nation stepped off the stage. Ludwig wiped the sweat off his brow, trying to catch his breath when someone tapped his shoulder.

It was one of the workers keeping watch over the rally, "Is your name Ludwig?" the uniformed teen asked. The blonde nation nodded as the boy pulled him through throngs of people to stand at the window of an expensive black car. Having completed his mission, the light haired boy left him to spread the word of the virtues of the Nazi party and the evils of everything else.

Suddenly a window rolled down and a familiar a voice asked "Did you enjoy the show?" Surprised to see the _Furher_ in such an informal setting the nation gave a hasty salute which his Boss simply shrugged off. "I have spoken to my engineers and I want to show you my plans for Poland." Ludwig looked inside the vehicle and alarmed to see his brother injured and sitting beside the Furher. "East, what happened!?"

Gilbert closed his eyes and turned to face the window, refusing to look at the blonde's worried face. "…I was attacked on my way to the capital building."

Ludwig's heart sank in his chest "Who did this to you?!"

The dark haired man spoke when Prussia did not "A few of my staff found him like this, we assume it was done by an opposing political party and he has been too distraught to speak."

Gilbert clenched his fist, knowing that his brother would believe the lie and spoke so only his enemy could hear "I will not be a pawn on your chessboard."

"You already are." 


	4. Chapter 4

There was no music here.

There was no music in neighborhoods beyond the concrete wall and the silence was deafening to behold. And yet, life existed in the smallest forms.

When the wind was right, you could hear the hushed murmur of the dead neighborhood's inhabitants or the dying wail of an insect crushed under marching feet.

So, it came as a surprise in this sterile ghetto to hear singing.

The SS officer in question belted out a rambunctious tune he had heard once and occasionally getting words wrong. The strong man's deep voice was brimming with the confidence and happiness of a drunken fool.

Life was good for Ludwig.

The band of communists that attacked Gilbert were found and executed swiftly and on the war front the German army was proving unstoppable. Nothing could make him stop smiling.

He wanted to finish his job and get home quickly to his brother.

Ludwig ran towards his fellow officers when he saw them leading people onto trucks: men and women on one, children and the elderly on another.

One officer was having difficulties with a little girl that refused to leave her mother. Frustrated, the man reached into his coat, but Ludwig nudged him aside.

The blonde knelt to eye level with her and asked what was wrong. The curly-haired child said that she was afraid of being alone and Ludwig gave a kind smile. "Don't worry. You will be separated for only a little while, your mother-" Ludwig pointed to the other truck with a gloved finger "-she's going to work on a factory for a few days and then you and your mother and father are going home. I'm sure a nice woman will be happy to be your grandmother until your mother gets back." With that the girl let Ludwig help her onto the truck and they waved goodbye as the crude engine started.

As Germany turned to leave, a recently promoted officer went to him and asked nervously "Is it really such a good idea to lie like that?"

Ludwig was confused "I wasn't lying, it was true."

----------

Gilbert scowled at the newspaper he held tightly, crinkling the paper. He wished it would burst into flame for two reasons; the first was that the new cartoonist was extremely unfunny, after all there are only so many Jew jokes in the world and most of them were stale to begin with.

The second was that his brother was doing _far_ too well in the war. Poland had fallen almost instantly and now it looks like France would be next, with the rest of the world trying not to collapse into ruin. At this rate, the Thousand Year Empire was going to be a reality and Ludwig would be goose-stepping until hell froze over.

The German crushed the paper into a ball and flung it across the room in frustration. Gilbert grabbed another book off the table and tried to read. He didn't know what to do and then Gilbert spontaneously went blind.

After a brief panic attack, the elder German discovered it was Ludwig's hat and not some sudden, tragic illness.

Ludwig leaned over to warmly embrace his brother on the couch and notice the book he was reading. "Karl Marx? ...I swear if you weren't my brother, I would report you to the police."

Not doubting him for a minute, Gilbert responded "Well, you're my brother and I'm considering shipping you off to Austria if you don't remember to take your lunch when you leave." The albino huffed "What do you do at the office anyway? I've never heard you talk about it."

Ludwig flinched and was glad his brother couldn't see it "Nothing, just shuffling papers." He spoke too quickly, Gilbert was sure to notice something was wrong.

The elder German turned his head to face him with no sign of suspicion on his face "Need any help there? I was reading _Mein Kampf_ today and…"

Ludwig was suddenly very interested in what he had to say. Gilbert never liked to talk about anything related to the party before… "...I was wondering what I have to do to get one of those sexy armbands like yours." He smaller man grinned and his brother was dumbfounded. "You mean you…?"

He nodded "I want to join the Nazi party." As soon as the words left his mouth he was pulled into a bone-crushing hug that threatened to break already battered ribs.


	5. Chapter 5

This felt sick and wrong.

Gilbert placed his right hand on a copy of _Mein Kampf,_the entire ceremony was a mockery of the Christian confirmation. "If I get struck by lightning for this, I'm blaming Hitler." He grumbled in his head.

The elder German was here to change his official political status, an event that usually had no more pomp and ceremony than signing for a package at the post office. Sign a paper of two, maybe pay a fee, and boom! You are now a card-carrying member of whatever group you choose. But that was when it was legal to join other parties, now it was join the Nazis or get shot.

Tough choice, right?

He looked around the small political party office, it was empty except for himself, his brother, and the local Committeeman, a short balding man pretending to be a priest. Ludwig was brimming with pride and Gilbert's heart sunk a little.

_Remember why you're doing this…_

The albino composed himself and spoke the lines Ludwig had taught him that morning

"I swear by God this holy oath that I will render to Adolf Hitler, Fuhrer of the German Reich and People, Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces, unconditional obedience, and that I am ready, as a brave soldier, to risk my life at any time for this oath."

Gilbert felt like he needed to wash his mouth out with soap and enough beer to forget this happened.

When the ceremony was over and they were alone, Ludwig was far too happy to pin the red garment on his brother's upper arm. "I told you, you would like it if you gave the party a chance." He blonde spoke between butterfly kisses before he pushed to arm's length.

"I need to talk to you first, before things go any farther…" Gilbert asked. "Kissing a man-who's your _brother, _I might add-aren't you supposed to hate this sort of thing now?"

Germany was confused and hurt "What?"

Gilbert threw away the issue with a wave of his hand and ruby eyes locked blue "Never mind, what I'm trying to say is, I need to know I can trust you."

"East, we've been together forever!"

Prussia held his brother's hands in his own "Things are going to happen and there are choices you'll have to make. Don't let anyone else make them for you, especially if it feels wrong."

Ludwig was stunned to silence, he had never seen Gilbert so grave before. The hands that held his were shaking

"I love you West, if I ever lost you…"

…………… . . .. . . . . . .. . .. . . .

It was early morning when Germany finally closed his eyes, only to be startled by the alarm in less than an hour. He was sent to Belgium on a diplomatic meeting and this was the first time in years Ludwig slept without his brother beside him.

Ludwig stood up and rubbed his shoulders, his body was stiff and sore from and he hadn't slept a wink. With embarrassment, he put away the revolver he hid under his pillow. The German scolded himself, he was far too old to suddenly be afraid of the dark!

At first he dismissed it as nothing, a sleepless night here and there, nothing to worry about.

But that was six months ago.

Now as soon as the sun goes down, horrid things would flood his senses every time he closed his eyes and when the sun goes up, it was like he never was afraid in the first place.

He quickly dressed into his uniform and headed out the door, taking refuge in a large conference room. Pausing at the door, he took a deep breath and forced his way inside.

"You're late, Ludwig." The irritated blonde reprimanded at the newcomer.

"Am I? I didn't notice." The German crossed the room without a hint of remorse and took a chair across from Britain, ignoring the meticulously organized papers he displaced in the process.

The two of them had decided to meet on neutral ground to avoid problems and judging by Germany's open hostility, conflict was inevitable.

"I thought we had a deal. I let you take the Rhine back and you promised you would stop at Czechoslovakia, now Feliks is on death's door, when the hell are you going to stop!" He shouted and slammed a fist down on the table.

Ludwig did something that was threw Arthur for a loop, he smirked. "You make it sound like I have done something wrong." Blue eyes sparkled as he restrained a laugh. Gilbert made him nervous for nothing, Arthur was weak.

"_If _you did-? You violated our treaty!" He sputtered in anger.

"I am merely returning my people to their proper place, geographically and socially, and I see nothing wrong with building an empire in the process." Ludwig folded his hands in his lap and remembered the reason behind his visit.

"The _Furher _hopes that youwould find that place with us, and since you seem to be in no mood for pleasantries I expect a timely answer."

Arthur was disgusted "Empires? In this day and age? You've lost your mind."

"This is coming from a man who still owns parts of China and India, or did you forget?"

"That's completely-!"

"-Different? I think not." Ludwig interrupted. "Why is it that you and your pompous friends decide what is right and wrong? How many nations have you cut apart for your own selfish reasons? You speak of Czechoslovakia with such sympathy and yet, where were you when she begged you for help? You could have stopped this war a long time ago."

"It's stopping now! Consider this my declaration of war, I will not have you harming anyone more innocent lives!"

"'Innocent'?" The German quoted with a sneer "All I see a greedy old man who cut my brother's throat and left us to die."

Meanwhile back in Berlin, things were not going well for the other Weillschmidt brother. He watched the opera commence with fidgeting boredom and tried not to make eye contact with the man sitting next to him.

"You do not appreciate the performance? Your brother went through such lengths to get us these seats, next time I shall suggest something far more low-class for your entertainment." The Chancellor spoke with a touch of smugness.

"Where is Ludwig?" Gilbert couldn't stand not knowing, he didn't care if he was hurt as long Germany was fine.

"Perfectly safe on a business trip to Belgium, your safety however, depends on you." The man glanced at the two armed bodyguards standing just out of earshot.

"Don't worry, I'm a good little Nazi now, see the armband?"

"Joining the party to get close to me and destroy me? How painfully obvious, I thought you had more tact than that."

Prussia checked his watch "Close but not quite, I'm using my _brother_ to get close to you."

The _Furher_ eyed him suspiciously, _a bluff, surely. The guards had already searched the little worm and came up empty._

They searched Gilbert, that was true but, they ignored the box.

The box was small, about half the size of a loaf of bread and wrapped in brightly patriotic paper. It was a gift of cigars from Ludwig to the _Furher_ and if unwrapped, the underside of the red paper was colored gold thereby changing the colors from the Nazi flag to the Prussian. Closer inspection would show that Ludwig's signature on the box and tickets were forged.

The white-haired youth hummed along with the orchestral music that drowned out the delicate sound of tick…tick…

Click.

When the chancellor realized what was happening, it was too late.

The second floor balcony was awash in amber light and flame, the grand scores was reduced to chaos. The force of the explosion tossed Prussia backwards like a misbehaving child throwing a rag-doll.

Debris fogged the air and hurt his eyes, Gilbert tore the wooden arm of a chair from his chest with a soundless shriek. Ruby eyes squinted and searched for his target as the dust cloud settled. Even with the air clearing, his vision darkened with every drop of blood that poured out of his heart.

"_Am I dying?" _The fleeting thought questioned.

People ran without destination and screamed wordlessly. The guards from before were pulling a body, scorched and crushed from the wreckage.

Pleased at a job well done, Gilbert laid back and let death, sleep, or exhaustion take him away.

Less than two weeks ago; joining the Nazi party, the opera, the bomb, wasn't even a thought in Gilbert's mind.

Ludwig was sent to Dachau on business and asked Gilbert to tag along and at one point the brothers were mulling over real coffee at a café when the elder German glanced out the window.

Gilbert pointed to a factory spewing smoke in the distance "I keep seeing trucks bringing in workers and supplies, but I never see anything coming out. What do you suppose they make there?" He questioned.

The younger brother sniffed the air before commenting "I don't know, whatever it is, it smells terrible."

They sat in awkward silence. The building seemed very familiar to the blonde like something out of a dream. "I saw soldiers leaving there yesterday."

"Then it has something to do with the war then, a new kind of airplane fuel?"

"Possibly, I've been around fuel plants before and they never smelled quite like that. This reminds me of when Arthur caught his hair on fire." Ludwig sipped his coffee, unknowing of how close he was to the truth.

Gilbert watched the dark smoke rise up from the chimneys and dissipate with morbid fascination.

His brother noted this "If you're that curious, I can arrange a tour…" his voice trailed off, something about that place was giving him a headache.

Afterwards Ludwig tried to get that tour, but was denied at every turn and the rejection came twice as fast when he mentioned his brother.

It didn't make sense, it wasn't as if the younger brother was a know-nothing lackey. Ludwig was impressively ranked and respected by his peers and yet, not a single person gave him an explanation for the rejection.

This upset him greatly, it was like they were being singled out.

But, why?

On the other hand, Gilbert found the truth.

The horrifying

Disgusting

Terrifying

Truth.

Prussia had his suspicions of the factory, but he never expected anything like that.

He had waited until his brother fell asleep and went out on his own. The tall grass surrounding the fences hid him from the armed guards until he reached the main building, the housing quarters. Gilbert peered into the high window, slowly lifting the shade of his lantern as not to be seen.

He stayed as long as his stomach would allow and walked back to his brother's side in a soulless daze. Gilbert slipped into the room soundlessly and found his little brother in the throes of a nightmare.

Ludwig was tangled in the sheets, caught like prey in a net and reaching out for any form of salvation. Gilbert touched him gently "…It's alright West, I'm here…I'm here." His brother clung to him, the spasms of panic and distress returning to peaceful slumber.

The elder German was still too rattled to sleep, choosing instead to stroke his sibling's hair and speak to him softly "You saw it too, didn't you West? In your nightmares?"

Ludwig didn't respond and Gilbert didn't expect him to.

He listened to the sounds of the room, the ticking of the clock on a nightstand, his own steady heartbeat, and his brother's gentle breathing. "…I'm going to save you, I promise..."

"…It might hurt a little, but I hope it's not too late…"


	6. Chapter 6

Ludwig watched the man he respected as he ordered the blonde to be taken home with a snap of his fingers.

When he touched down at the airport the last thing he expected to see waiting for him was _Furher. _The man's expression was solemn as he spoke, inviting the blonde into a black Mercedes-Benz.

"…What's wrong? Did something happen to my brother?" Ludwig questioned with worry.

The dark haired man folded his hands in his lap "I think of you like my own son, that's why I chose to be the one tell you." He was full of anguish and sympathy over the news "While you were gone, your brother made an attempt on my life. He had built a crude explosive and was caught in the blast. Gilbert is recovering in the hospital until his trial."

Photographs were pulled from a leather suitcase depicting the bomb and scenes of the explosion. Ludwig flipped through the images in disbelief "Gilbert…_My brother_ did this?"

"He covered his tracks well, your home was searched and we found nothing regarding any outside help. Did he do or say anything suspicious?"

"_Things are going to happen…"_

"No, nothing."

The dark haired man leaned into the seats, curious of his loyal pawn's denial but said nothing.

Instead, a familiar book was placed into Ludwig's hands, _The Communist Manifesto_ "This was the catalyst to his madness. How horrible it is to lose a fine German like him to the horrors of Jewish-Bolshevism." The dark haired man shook his head with remorse.

Ludwig sighed deeply, maybe he should have called the police when he had the chance and this could have been prevented. He absent-mindedly flipped through the pages and stopped at the inside cover in surprise.

Gilbert's copy was a gift from Ivan Braginski years ago, and the Russian wrote a piece of poetry for him behind the front cover.

Something clicked in his mind, the copy he held in his hands was blank. "You're lying to me…"

"What did you say?"

"I want to see my brother." Ludwig barked, his voice was as like iron and all sense of submissiveness was gone.

…..

Ludwig ran into the plain hospital room, nearly ripping the door off the hinges and dropping to his knees at Gilbert's bedside. Ludwig tenderly kissed his brother's hands and face, repeatedly taking his rosy lips between guilt-ridden apologies and declarations of eternal love.

His brother was covered in bandages and held down with leather restraints, not that he would try to escape. The white haired German was so laden with morphine to even open his eyes, let alone conduct another grand murder attempt.

Adolf Hitler scrunched his face in disgust, he was taken aback by such a hideous and alien display of affection. They were both men…And in public no less!

The blonde traced Gilbert's mouth with gentle licks and glossy crimson eyes slid open. Ludwig reluctantly pulled away, enjoying the electricity on his tongue and in his body.

A hand on Ludwig's shoulder snapped him back to reality and he calmly wiped the fluid from his mouth with the back of his hand. The _Furher_ frowned at him in repulsion but the blonde felt no shame in loving his brother "Yes, sir?"

In moments, the fatherly façade returned "I spoke to the doctor on my way here and I am afraid I have some shocking news…Gilbert is not your brother, all the tests came back negative. I'm sorry to say this, but he lied to you."

"_You_ are the liar here, not him. I'm taking my brother with me and ending this war." The blonde began unbuckling the straps that held Prussia down.

"And where are you going to go, I wonder? In case you haven't noticed we are in a war that encompasses the world. There is no where within the Reich or the Axis I can't find you, the Allies will kill you, the neutrals won't accept you. So, where will you go?"

"I…" Ludwig hadn't gotten that far in his plans and the Chancellor pounded on the weakness "And will you turn your back on your people this close to victory?"

"There is no victory in a massacre."

"Is there victory in letting your loved ones die?"

"You're wrong, he'll only die if he stays here."

The dark-haired man calmly picked up Prussia's medical chart and flipped through the pages "So much medication he has…I wonder, what will happen to him if it suddenly stops?"

Dark eyes scanned each line and symbol on the papers "…Like poison without an antidote."

Ludwig clutched his fists tightly at his sides until droplets of blood hit the floor. "If anything happens to him…I will kill you"

"I look forward to it."

…

Ivan was pouring over maps when noise outside caught his attention, he opened the door of the makeshift base to see a few of his soldiers toying with a newfound victim. He would have turned away if he did not see the victim's white hair and crimson eyes.

"Commander! The punk says he knows ya, whadda ya want me to do with 'im?" The petty officer laughed as he held Gilbert's hands behind his back, rendering him helpless.

Ivan twitched with anger but the kept the cheerful guise as he drew a pistol "You will take your filthy hands off my friend, da?"

The officer released him as if he was scalded and his eyes widened with fear. He held up his hands in surrender "Hey…I didn't mean any harm, okay? He's not even scratched up, well, no more than when we found 'im."

Ivan pulled the trigger and watched his comrade fall before greeting the German as if nothing unusual happened. Some of the other soldiers were surprised but knew better than to ask when the Russian excitedly tugged Gilbert into the base.

Maps and papers of varying importance were shoved off the grand table with a flourish. Ivan sat the German at a seat across from his with an air of smugness.

"Did you come to negotiate your conditions of your surrender? Because-" The Russian paused in shock when he saw Gilbert's broken body in the lamplight.

He was still dressed in his paper-thin hospital attire with only a light jacket thrown over his shoulders.

Loosely wrapped bandages held him together like marionette's wire and his eyes were like red marbles, glassy and unseeing.

Ivan had seen the pain inflicted on a country during war, but nothing compared to this. "You look like you've seen hell."

Gilbert's face twisted with dark laughter and gave a morbid smile "You have no idea."

Instead of continuing, he drew a brown paper package from his jacket and unwrapped it to reveal a bottle of expensive vodka. The German set the bottle near Ivan with a 'thunk' "I came here to ask you to spare my brother's life."

The Russian picked up the vodka and inspected it to be genuine before speaking "The life of a traitor for alcohol? That's not very fair." He leaned closer "Why do you want to save him after everything that's happened?"

"I never said-" Prussia began a bout of painful coughing and tried not to show the blood on his hands. He steadied himself and regained his composure "I never said booze was the only thing you're getting out of this. I'm dying, I have maybe a month to live, and that's a stretch. I've been drugged so much you can cut me open, gut me alive, and I still won't feel a thing…"

Ruby eyes drooped and smoldered, a tweed jacket fell to the floor "…And I know you've been trying to get a piece of Western Europe for centuries."

Before he realized what he was doing, Ivan had snaked an arm around the German's waist and gave him a passionate kiss that Gilbert did not refuse.

Russia broke the kiss, feeling slightly ashamed for taking advantage of the smaller man "I've always loved you, Prussia."

The German merely looked up at him with unblinking eyes, "I know."

Ivan led him through the house by the hand, the place had been looted many times before the Russian's men took over. Gilbert hoped the previous occupant made it safely out of the country instead of being ash in a furnace or buried under other unnamed dead.

White light and tiles lined the bathroom, the brass overhead fixture was hanging on purely by hope like so many things these days.

Shaking hands undid Ivan's copper buttons and he returned the favor kissing torn skin, their clothes falling forgotten to the floor. A brush of lips on a white collarbone left Ivan confused, "Where is your cross?"

Prussia's eyes clenched shut, shielding him from a nightmare he didn't want to remember and his words were devoid of all emotion but sadness. "How do you think I paid for the vodka?"

The Teutonic cross he wore around his neck was of the purest silver and had seen more bloodshed and warfare than most nations. It was worth a fortune and the bottle on the table wasn't even a quarter of the price.

Ivan felt like a monster.

A bath was drawn and steaming water embraced them, soothing scars both young and old. An herbal scent filled the air as Russia cleansed Gilbert's wounds, staining the water pink. Any care that was given to him at the hospital was purely cosmetic, infection lingered in stitches that were not touched since the day they were sewn, a fragment of shrapnel embedded in his chest gave way under Ivan's fingernail.

The Russian was entranced by the metal shard the size of a dime in his palm. "…Why?"

"No one deserves to hurt like this." Prussia showed no signs of pleasure or pain from Ivan's actions and the Russian considered hurting him to coax a reaction from the white haired man. He was like a porcelain doll. There was no blush on ivory cheeks when Russia made love to him, there was no cry of pain when teeth sunk into his neck, his inner thigh.

Worst of all, there was no warmth to his blood.

When it was over Gilbert's eyes became unfocused, transfixed, on something far away that no one else could see.

"Are you ready?" Ivan asked timidly.

"Yes."

Ivan reached into his pile of clothes to retrieve the pistol, he considered a goodbye kiss but he didn't want to ruin him anymore. The cold barrel pressed the juncture of Gilbert's noble brow and he spoke barely above a whisper "Thank you."

A pull of a trigger and a loud 'bang' ended his suffering.

How natural it was, seeing Prussia slumped against the ceramic with red and pink flowers splattered on the walls. A line of scarlet traced a line from the bullet hole, down the gentle slope of his nose to dissipate on pale lips in a gory mime of crying.

The Russian let the water out of the tub and walked out of the room.

Moments later he returned with a box of matches in his hand and the bottle of vodka tucked under his arm. Frightening the superstitious, Gilbert had moved while he gone. Now, he lay curled inside the bath, to the Russian he looked like he was sleeping.

He _was_ sleeping after all. Ivan chuckled and opened the bottle, taking a swig for himself and pouring the rest over his friend. A match was tossed and Prussia was engulfed in flames. Russia watched him burn close enough to feel the heat and was very careful to make sure nothing was left but ash.

He wanted to say something important and profound as a eulogy, something about meeting up in the next life and everyone being happy instead of so full of hate.

Ivan had hated Ludwig ever since the Russian learned the truth about how Gilbert would never love him a fraction of what he loved his brother. Ludwig hated Ivan for loving his brother and everyone hated everyone else.

No wonder the world was such a rotten mess.

On May 2, in a bombed out bunker in Berlin, the sound of an explosive woke the blonde from a restless sleep. He grabbed a rifle and ran towards the noise.

This was hopeless, he had been trapped there for days since the bombing destroyed all forms of communication. Ludwig was waiting for, god knows how long, for orders and aid that never came.

What was going on? Who was attacking?

The Americans or the Russians? All he knew was that he had to survive this somehow.

The bunker was hot and humid, Ludwig was filthy but he tried to maintain order and remember the rules.

One, silence was hell on earth.

Two, rations were life.

Three, ammunition was more valuable than gold.

Four, always save a bullet for yourself.

A bullet whizzed by as he ducked, someone shouted and Ludwig opened fire. This was to be his last stand, he didn't know how many he took down or how many times he was shot before it was over.

But it was over.

Ivan walked towards the blood-soaked German, broken glass crunching under his feet "Do you surrender, Germany?" he asked.

"Does it matter what I say? Either way you're going to kill me." Germany began to cough and coughing became hacking, the infected blood spray stained his uniform and ran down his chin.

The Russian was oddly fascinated by the disease and asked "Why do you cough like that?"

The German spat on at his feet and sneered "Why do you care?"

Russia blinked "I saw your brother do the same."

Ludwig jumped to his feet and shook the Russian by the collar demanding answers "What? You saw East! Where is he! How is he!"

"Your brother is dead." Ivan brushed his hands away "Gilbert was killed in a last ditch effort to stop my advance to Berlin, there is no body I'm afraid."

Ludwig was mortified, how could his brother be gone? The blonde blinked back tears and bared his teeth "You-! You murderer!"

"Da. I am a murderer, and so are you."

The German was going into shock as questions and grief filled his head.

"_I never got to say goodbye."_

Russia kept his promise, the opportunity to kill his enemy quickly slipped from his fingers. The other Allied nations were there in moments and Ludwig surrendered without a fight. What was left to fight for? Everything was dead.

Someone was screaming awful names at him and the German paid no attention, all anger ran off him like water off a windowpane. He wanted nothing more than to go back to way things were.

A house, a few dogs, and Gilbert's smiling face welcoming him home.

"Kill me, I have nothing left to live for."

"Damn right, you god-damn Nazi-!" Arthur restrained a fuming America, the Brit spoke without anger "Adolf Hitler committed suicide this morning, we have no more reason or desire to fight any longer. Take this opportunity to rebuild your cities and repent over what you've done."

…..

Two years later as Ludwig was walking along the border of East and West Berlin, he saw how everything changed and stayed the same. Trains were running again and entire blocks that were destroyed are now shiny and new. People still lit candles in the dark, praying for those who never came home.

Crystal blue eyes watched the German walk by and the boy tugged on a pink scarf. "Papa? Who's that man?" He asked, pointing.

Ivan smiled at him and ruffled the child's snowy white hair "That's Mama's brother Ludwig, the Federal Republic of Germany."

"Oh. So, he's not communist like we are?"

Ivan shook his head "Be careful of him, da? I don't want you to turn into a capitalist like your mean uncle, my little German Democratic Republic."

The child looked over his shoulder, sparing one last glance in Ludwig's direction before Ivan led him away.


End file.
